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The Anti-Donut Activist

 

This is a story I heard from Dr. Genuis, a Medical Doctor and Ethicist in Vancouver, BC Canada. Like all great stories, it has meaning at a number of levels of significance. He told it very well, so I'll do my best to do it justice. We'll start with the story itself:

 

Let’s begin with a simple fact: as we know, donuts have become trendy. Not just any donuts, but gourmet creations that cost as much as an entrée at a family diner, made with exotic ingredients like saffron, Earl Grey custard, and caramelized onions. In many cities, small bakeries and cafés specialize in these unique treats, each claiming to offer the most adventurous donut experience.
 

Now, imagine you’ve recently started a new job and want to impress your coworkers. You stop by one of these popular donuts shops, spend $100, or more, on a dozen of these gourmet donuts, and bring them to your next meeting. As the box is passed around, your colleagues are excited, commenting on how thoughtful you are and admiring the elaborate flavors. One by one, each person takes a donut, appreciating the novelty and thanking you for the gesture.

But when the box reaches a young man sitting across from you, he simply glances inside and says, “No thank you,” before passing the box along.

This seems unusual. After all, these aren’t just any donuts—these are trendy, expensive donuts! Who would turn that down? It might even occur to you that this person is some sort of anti-donut, anti-joy activist.

You're a little perturbed at his ingratitude. You're not the only person who's perplexed, though. It's clear there were others who couldn't make sense of this disregard for trendiness and a great experience, a someone finally asks him, “Why don’t you want a donuts? Why won't you have one of these donuts?”

 

In response, the young man starts to explain, “My grandpa is turning 75 next week, and one of his lifelong dreams has been to run a marathon. He’s tried training before, but it never worked out. It’s something he always wanted to cross off his bucket list, but he thought it would never happen."

 

He continued, "About a year ago, I found a marathon that’s taking place the week of his birthday. As a gift, I told him I’d run it with him, and we’ve been training together ever since. He even designed a special diet to help him prepare, and I’m following it with him, which means no donuts for me. It’s a small sacrifice, but I’m happy to make it because I love my grandpa and am excited to do this with him.”

Suddenly, the “anti-donut activist” label doesn’t seem fair anymore. He’s not against donuts at all—he’s for something much bigger. His refusal wasn’t about saying no to a treat; it was about saying "yes" to something far more meaningful in his life.

 

Dr. Genuis told this story to illustrate how, on the surface, people may seem divisive or out of step with trends, but when you understand their motives, the picture becomes much clearer—and possibly noble. There a number of lessons I took from that story and I'm sure you might, too. I've thought about how it speaks to understanding our differences. It speaks to the importance of dialog. It could be about generosity and graciousness.

 

But if you're like me, one of the reasons that this story caught my attention is that I love donuts (and I kind of wish I was at that table) and I couldn't escape the idea that this story beautifully illustrates what "effort-free" discipline looks like; how a long-term perspective focuses our short-term decisions.

Simon Sinek, in his book Start with Why, sums it up well: “When you are clear about your 'why,' the discipline becomes automatic. It’s not something you need to push yourself to do—it’s something you’re pulled toward.” The grandson in our story wasn’t against donuts or joy. He was simply pulled toward something bigger, something more significant.

 

 

In your world, what is your donut? What is your marathon? Do you have a marathon? A grandpa? What is most important to you? What is most beneficial to you and your stated goals? And perhaps the biggest question: are your stated goals your real goals?

 

Stephen Covey, from The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, states that “Discipline comes easier when the end goal is meaningful, when it speaks to a deeply-held value.” It seems easier -- but not foolproof! The reality is that I can still struggle to turn down the donut and I still want to avoid the risk of being labelled the anti-donut activist.

 

So how do we get past the dual challenge of passing up the donut we love and avoiding the negative label we don't love? Why do we find it such a struggle? James Clear, from Atomic Habits, makes it pretty clear: “You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” No matter how noble and lofty our goals are, no matter how much we we want something, we need to put systems in

place to accommodate the steps we need to take in order to achieve our goals.

 

 

If you revisit the story, our anti-donut activist did have systems set up to help him succeed. For instance, I'll bet he had breakfast and didn't come to work hungry. He had a routine of workouts and a rigorous diet already established. He was accountable to his grandpa -- tracking their diet and progress together. It may have had no impact, but he wasn't the first to be offered a donut, which gave him a bit of time to solidify his resolve; I might have been tempted to take one and then indicate that I was "saving it for later", if I was asked about it.

 

He knew what he wanted, he could deduce what wasn't helpful, he wasn't in a place of desperation, and he felt self-confident enough in the group to pass on it. Intentionally, or not, he was prepared to make choices to support his goals. His internal motivations, external motivations, and systems were aligned.

What are your goals? What do you want? What do you really want? Would anyone be able to tell from the habits you have, from the systems you have in place, from those whom you choose to make yourself accountable to?

 

You don't have to be an anti-donut activist; with a little preparation, you can be a pro-bucket-list-marathoner. Go for it!